


Formal Attire // Dance with Me

by bryar6



Series: Zouxie Week 2020 [2]
Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: 'just friends' oh sweeties, 12th Century, Angst and Drama, Dancing, Douxie and Zoe are soft, F/M, Fluff, Formalwear, Gen, Light Angst, Misc OC - Freeform, Pre-Canon, Pre-Wizards, Slow Burn, Zouxie Week 2020, horse!Archie makes an appearance again, zouxie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryar6/pseuds/bryar6
Summary: Zouxie Week Day 2: Formal AttireDouxie has to invite someone to a ball to maintain a formal image as the court wizard's apprentice, and who better than his closest friend? & some insight into Zoe's life in Camelot. Sometime after the events of my fic “Taking Flight” but considerably before the time fiasco in Wizards.
Relationships: Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan & Zoe, Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan/Zoe, Zoe & OC mother figure/witch
Series: Zouxie Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994584
Comments: 40
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So for this one I actually did a hell of a lot of research on dancing in the 12th century and clothing, only to barely mention it, so I hope it was worth it lol. There's surprisingly few accounts of 12th century dancing!! I nerded out a little over neat history stuffs because why not.
> 
> [Here's](https://unexpected-possibilities.tumblr.com/post/643606082891169792/if-you-were-ever-interested-i-did-up-zoes) Zoe's described dress I sketched up for a nice visual!

“M’lady! Good day,” Douxie announces his presence, entering the apothecary shop at a brisk walk. He bows lightly and Zoe rolls her eyes from her seat behind the counter. She straightens her apron over her messy work dress.

“And to you,” she replies, eyes narrowing at the unusual formality. “What whims bring you?” 

“Ah, well. Perchance the lady should be willing, I’d request a stroll this afternoon.” He keeps his hands clasped neatly behind his back, smiling kindly. Something is off with him. 

“Enough with the fancy talk. I’ll go for a walk with you,” she says, brushing at some dust on the counter. 

“Thank you, oh kind maiden-” Zoe leans over the counter and plants her hand over his mouth. His eyebrows jump.

“Please, for the love of Merlin, act like yourself! You are really worrying me,” she says, voice dropping. Douxie nods and she releases him, stepping back and reseating herself. “Did the old man cast a spell on you or something?”

“Apologies,” he mumbles, looking away. “And no, no spell. So, uh, I’ll see you an hour past noon? Town center?” 

“Sure,” she replies, shaking her head. “Whatever this is had better be good.”

“I should hope so.” He bows slightly again, earning him a bemused sound from Zoe. He turns on his heel and is out the door with a wave. She sighs, reaching to undo her long braid. She runs her fingers through the tangles, pulling out a stray twig here or there. It was uncomfortably heavy and long. She’s already vowed that if it becomes socially acceptable one day, she’ll cut it short. 

“Who is that boy who keeps visiting you?” The voice comes from the doorway behind the counter, where an elderly woman clutches a bundle of herbs. Her eyes sparkle. 

“He’s a friend,” Zoe replies, straightening in her seat and correcting her posture. Isabel never liked her poor manners. 

“Does he have a name? And he certainly seems to think you're some friend.” Isabel moves about the shop, cleaning and rearranging where she can. 

“Douxie. And he’s just a friend, Isabel. And he’s Merlin’s apprentice at that. So nothing could ever come of it anyways.” Zoe says this quickly, quashing her feelings as much as she can. She’s content enough to let him just be a good friend. She thinks. 

“Merlin Ambrosius’s apprentice, in our little shop. That’s wonderful. Oh, do invite him back,” the woman says, a smile growing on her face. 

“If you insist. He’s a bit of a troublemaker,” Zoe warns, but her lips curl up. She remembers just how many times she’s had to beat him back with a broom to stop him from messing up carefully preserved and arranged ingredients. 

Isabel walks over to the counter and grabs Zoe’s chin and yanks her forward. Zoe doesn’t pull back, but her eyes go wide in confusion. Isabel licks a finger and scrubs at Zoe’s cheek. 

“You’re off work for the rest of the day. And wash up, we can’t have you looking so dirty for a stroll with a nobleman, now can we?” The old woman’s smile shows across her face, her milky eyes glittering with amusement. 

“But Isabel-” Zoe starts, tipping her head. 

“Ah ah! Go! Have fun! Enjoy yourself. And do yourself a favor and wear that dress I made, eh?” Isabel pats down her apron and moves off into the house, chuckling to herself. Zoe sighs, but lifts her dress and slips into a pair of shoes, collects her things, and makes her way to the well behind the shop. She’s lived with Isabel for some years now. Isabel had been a witch once, too, but she had long since let go of the magic in favor of going peacefully now that she was satisfied with her life. Her last grand act was taking Zoe under her wing like the daughter she never had. Zoe loves the old woman like she imagines she would love her mother if she were still around. 

Zoe pulls herself from her thoughts and focuses on dredging the water from deep in the well and scrubbing at the patches of pine pitch on her skin. Might as well follow Isabel’s advice, anyways. She owed the old woman that at the least. 

**********************************

Zoe stands as politely as she can by the large fountain in the middle of the town common, doing her best to stand tall and to not fiddle any more with her hair. She knows she must look like a peasant playing dress-up, but she feels confident in Isabel’s dress. It’s a simple overdress, with long hanging sleeves and a delicate trim, in a beautiful sage color, a simple tooled leather belt around her waist. She wears her hair in a single long braid down her back and a brown hooded cape rests on her shoulders. It’s a bit too warm for a day like today, but she looks nice and her mild discomfort is earning her intrigued looks from the townspeople. 

“And what a fine maiden indeed,” comes Douxie’s voice from behind her. He walks to her side and does another small bow. “You look lovely.” 

Zoe forces herself not to roll her eyes. “And you look…” She studies him. “...the same as ever?” 

He laughs. “Mayhaps the lady should work a bit on compliments.” Zoe huffs, locking her elbows to keep herself from crossing them over her chest. She’d call him rude, but it simply wasn’t worth it. 

“Maybe the apprentice should watch what he says so he doesn’t wake up one morning as a frog,” she threatens. But he only laughs again, and extends his elbow to her. 

“Walk with me?” His face has gone neutral again, but it seems as though he’s struggling to maintain a formal air. 

Zoe takes his arm and they wander up the streets toward the castle. They pass a few sets of guards who pay the apprentice and Zoe no extra attention. She guesses that they’re simply used to him passing in and out with frequency. Instead of taking them into the castle, Douxie leads them around and to a large garden filled with all kinds of well-tended plants. She’s immediately amazed and enthralled. 

“So,” Douxie begins, clearing his throat. “As a wizard’s apprentice, I have an ‘image’ to keep up, according to Merlin, which means attending meetings, joining hunts, being a part of all sorts of other things, so on and so forth.” Douxie trails off, face turning pinkish. Zoe stares at him, raising her shoulders to prompt him. 

“Go on.” She trails a hand lightly over some tall ferns, feeling the responsiveness of the plant’s tiny bit of inherent magic under her fingers. 

“I was wondering if you’d, uh, if you’d care to join me at a ball.” Douxie’s face is quite red by now and he has a hand up to his neck. “Just, well, as a friend, that’s all- I’m supposed to invite someone along, and I’m sure that Merlin would far prefer a noble of some sort, but it wouldn’t feel right, I suppose, is what I’m trying to say-” 

Zoe grins. She’s never been invited to anything like this in her life, and though she imagines the painful formality of it will be difficult, she’s always had that little dream in the back of her mind that one day she’d get a chance much like this. “I...accept?” she says, trying to keep a composed face. 

Douxie breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s great, I was so worried you’d say no, I know it’s really kind of pretentious and it’ll be full of nobles and all-” 

“Douxie, I know you wouldn’t be able to survive a social event like that on your own. Besides, what’s a little bit of fun in our lives? I think I can manage it just fine.” 

“Well that’s- that’s great, really. Ah, you have no idea how relieved I am.” He runs his fingers over a topiary, his crooked smile lingering. “It’s in a week, and I’m sure I can find a tailor for you if you’d like-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughs lightly. The gears are already spinning in her head. “I can figure that out myself.”

“Oh, great. Well, I guess, there will be requirements, like the proper manners, and dancing and all, but if you’re fine with that, we’ll be perfect.” Douxie tugs at his vest. 

“I think I can handle myself with most of it, I just...I don’t know any of the dances,” Zoe explains, her voice quieting. “That’s probably an issue.”

“I’ll teach you then!” Douxie says, grabbing her hand. 

“And what do you know about dancing?” Zoe asks incredulously, a smile playing on her face. 

“It’s rather simple, really, anyone can learn it. I was taught how to be proper in my first years at the castle, and formal dancing was one of those lessons. C’mon,” he tugs at her hand and drags them into a small grassy circle created by the garden. 

“I think you’re overestimating my abilities-” she starts, but Douxie shushes her and points her shoulders. 

“Most common are circle or line dances, and they really do take more than two people to be done correctly, but the most important part is placement of your feet.” Douxie stands beside her and sets his shoulders. He holds both arms out, grasping Zoe’s in one. “Now move with me when I say and follow my lead.” 

“I’ll try.” 

Douxie sidesteps left twice, kicks a foot out across the other, and then sidesteps right again and kicks. Zoe does her best to maintain her balance and copies him. “We do each side twice, then, if it were a group, we’d go into the circle…” He moves forward with her and lets go to clap his hands and takes it as soon as they move back. “And now, small kicks…” He kicks his feet under him, looking a little odd, she thinks. “It’s quite simple, really, mostly just this. With a group it’s much easier.” 

“Oh,” Zoe says, surprised by how much easier he made it out to be. “Is that all, then?”

“Well, no, there will probably be a couple dances done with partners. I can show you that, too. Here, stand there,” he says, pointing her opposite of him. “It’s hard to describe this one, but some people compare it to being like birds.”

Zoe laughs a little at that. “Dancing and birds have very little in common, but I suppose I’ll play along.” 

Douxie moves next to her and describes how to pass each other lightly, spinning around each other and stepping close, all the while not touching. He slows and lifts a palm, which Zoe places her own against, and they move around each other with that as their only contact, eyes turned downward. Douxie is humming some tune under his breath that she can’t place. They bow, pass, and spin again before the dance is over. 

“See? It’s not that difficult,” Douxie reasons, putting his hands on his hips. Zoe nods, feeling a lot more comfortable. 

“Yeah, I suppose it’s better than I feared it would be.” Zoe pauses, trying to think of a way to thank him again, but a pair of voices come from the other end of the garden. One of them sounds somewhat familiar. 

“Oh, fuzzbuckets,” Douxie says. “We need to get out of here.” 

“Wait, why?” Zoe asks, face scrunching in confusion. What had she done wrong?

“Because if I’m to play you off as some royal, they can’t see you here right now or they’ll know.” Douxie grabs her arm and weaves through the garden again, a complex labyrinth Zoe knows she couldn’t have navigated alone. They burst out on the other end, out of breath, but the voices are out of earshot now. “You should go, I have things that Merlin wanted me to get done today.” 

“Oh,” she says, looking away. “If you have to.” 

A pained look crosses Douxie’s face. “Er, well. I suppose it’s fine if I put them off a little. What’s it matter anyways?” 

Zoe grins. “Now that’s more like it. I bet I can beat you to the gates even in this dress.” 

“What?” He blinks, trying to register. Zoe lifts the edges of her dress and takes off running. 

“Race you!” 

“Oh, you’re on!” he calls back, boots slapping against the cobblestones as he chases after. 

******************

“Oh, dear, you do look just stunning,” trills Isabel, clasping her hands together. Zoe spins in the tiny kitchen. 

“Thank you for helping with all this, I know it’s a lot,” Zoe says, running her hands down the long embroidered material. The dress practically shimmers. 

“I’m so excited for you. I’m sure you and the charming apprentice will have a grand time.” Isabel pats Zoe’s hand, her smile never fading for a moment. 

“It’s just as friends, Isabel,” Zoe reminds her. “He needs someone there to keep him out of trouble.”

“Ah. I see,” the older woman replies, raising an eyebrow. Isabel is clearly not convinced. Zoe shrugs it off and tries to resume that painfully formal air. A knock comes at the door and Zoe swears her heart has stopped beating for a moment. Isabel opens it and Douxie steps in. 

He looks strangely unlike himself to the point that Zoe wouldn’t have believed it was him if it weren’t for those shining hazel eyes. He wears a long red tunic with golden embellishments and a trailing gold cloak hangs off his shoulders. His longish hair hangs down still, framing his face and he wears a thin golden laurel that matches the embroidery. 

“My lady,” he says, bowing earnestly this time, sweeping his arms out. “You look enchanting.” 

It takes everything she has not to scoff or roll her eyes. “And good evening to you, too.” 

“Our carriage awaits,” he says simply, offering his arm. Zoe takes it, smiles at Isabel, and ducks out of the shop. Outside, a large black horse stands in a harness, a driverless carriage behind him. 

“Is that-” Zoe starts, but the horse interrupts with a knicker. 

“Your loyal steed,” Archie says, ears pointed forward. “Come on, we do have a ball to get to.” 

Douxie helps her into the carriage and hops in after her. Archie pulls them away as soon as they’re inside. 

“Zoe, is your dress…” He trails off, hands waving in the air to find the words. 

“Magic? Yes, actually. Isabel and I made a spell, it wears off around midnight though. But we should be gone before then. This is probably the most comfortable dress I’ve ever worn.” Zoe runs her hands over the soft material again, relishing in the fact she can still breathe in it. The dress almost glows under her hands in a soft, purplish hue. 

“It suits you. Though I don’t think red is my color,” Douxie says, adjusting his collar. Zoe studies him for a moment and nods. 

“I think blue still works best for you. I mean, nothing against what you’re wearing now, you know,” she blurts out, covering her mouth with a hand a moment later. Douxie laughs. 

“I agree.” They sit in slightly awkward silence for a few moments, both having nothing they really need to say, and rather just want to, but the moment doesn’t really warrant it. Instead, they watch the trees and forest go by as Archie faithfully pulls the carriage to their destination, a town only a few miles away where the ball was to be hosted. It was supposedly Arthur’s way of keeping a civil relationship with them, but Douxie knows only his advisors had any say in it. 

They arrive at the castle, albeit not as grand as Camelot, but still ornate and beautiful. Douxie hops out first and helps her down from the carriage and pats Archie’s neck before he trots off, presumably to find the stalls and a stablehand to pamper him. 

“Well, I don’t suppose there’s much I haven’t told you about how all this will go down, but I suppose it’s just best that you play it safe and not let the nobles bother you that much. I’ll stick around as much as I can.” 

“You mean I’ll be keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t say something ridiculous.” Douxie meets her eyes and lets out the smallest sigh. 

“Yes, yes.” The two walk in, hand on arm, performing all the proper formalities as they enter. 

Zoe barely manages to keep her awe and wonder down. There’s whole tables of food lining the beautiful marble floor, massive chandeliers hanging down full of magically lit candles, and a room full of fancily dressed nobles. Zoe collects herself and stays politely by Douxie’s side for the evening. 

*********

Zoe laughs and smiles kindly at a lady who had been rambling on and on about how she so envies Lady Magdalene’s pure fox-fur cape. She’d finally been torn off Douxie’s arm at some point, and he wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so in their best interests, she’s been trying to socialize. Zoe thinks it’s going to kill her if she has to talk to one more lady who makes snide remarks about one another. 

“And who might this young lady be?” 

Zoe whirls around, forgetting all of her etiquette lessons with Isabel. “Uh, hello. I- I’m- Lady Raiden. Sir.” _This was already going poorly._

She curtsies, looks up, and meets the man’s eyes. She nearly curses. None other than Merlin Ambrosius looks down at her with a suspicious gaze. 

“Hmmph. Never heard of that family.” Merlin’s gaze shifts and she follows it. Their eyes land on Douxie, who is now crossing the floor towards them. “Who are you here with?” 

“I- I was invited by Hisirdoux Casperan, sir.” She nearly slaps herself for doing it again. There was no ‘sir’ to a noble. “Y-your apprentice?” 

“Is that so? Because I specifically told him to invite a noble,” Merlin sneers, lips curling downwards. Zoe cringes away and draws into herself. “You can’t fool me, impure.” 

“Oh, Master, I see you’ve met my guest,” Douxie says, clearly missing the situation. He’s still quite cordial and formal as can be. 

“Oh, I’ve met her alright,” Merlin says, leaning in close to Douxie. His confidence drops quickly. “I thought I gave you simple instructions. We will speak of this later.” 

“But Master-”

“Ah!” Merlin waves a finger and walks off, clearly unhappy. 

“I messed that one up, didn’t I,” Zoe mumbles under her breath. Douxie frowns, watching as his master bows to a knight, but his mind is elsewhere. 

“No, no. It’s my fault. I invited you. I should have known he’d recognize you. I can’t imagine he’ll want to see either of us now.” Douxie sighs. 

Zoe stands quietly for a moment, trying to find any way she could comfort him. 

“Hey. I say we grab more of those delightful pastries and then go hide on a balcony,” she suggests, grinning deviously. 

The corner of Douxie’s mouth turns up. “That doesn’t sound like a half bad idea.” 

******

Just a few minutes later, both of them are giggling and dashing down a long hall, pockets full of small pastries. Sure, they’d been given odd looks, but the two young adults couldn’t care less. 

Zoe lifts the edges of her dress as she moves, her soft shoes slapping against the stone. She looks at Douxie and finds he’s already looking at her, face full of something like admiration. She grabs his arm and pulls them out towards a small door with a stained glass window pane set in it. She opens the door and they’re met with the cool night air. The large balcony is adorned with trailing plants, a tall grand rail carved ornately encircling it. 

Douxie breathes in deeply, finally relaxing. “Thank you, Zoe,” he says through a mouthful of pastry. 

“See, there’s another good reason for you to bring me along,” she laughs, licking the jelly off her fingers in a very un-ladylike fashion. He just smiles at her. “Merlin is too hard on you. He never lets you off the hook. Sometimes you’ll just have to go against that, for your own sanity.” 

“I guess you’re right.” But his face remains twisted as he looks out across the moonlit fields. “We’re going to miss the dancing.” 

“We don’t have to,” Zoe says. 

“I’m not going back in there, with all those people, it’s suffocating,” he argues, turning back to face her. Anxiety has begun to show on his face. 

“No, that’s not quite what I meant. I mean, we can skip the circle dance and everything, right?” She leans back against the railing, tipping her head up to look at the clear night sky. 

“Yes, but I’m still not following. We’ll miss it, and I know you wanted to.”

“There’s a couple two-person dances you taught me, are there not?” She takes his hand and pulls him to the center of the balcony. 

“Oh, I uh, yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Douxie rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. He flicks his gaze to her face and away and they stand in the quiet for a moment. 

“Well?” she asks expectantly. “Will you dance with me?” 

“I- yeah, of course,” he stutters, assuming the position beside her. The faint sounds of the ball’s music can be heard through the castle walls. They begin the dance, passing and brushing, only touching to bring their palms together and then falling apart. The dance is comfortably graceful and simple, and it’s over all too quick. They transition smoothly into another dance, finding it easy to keep time. 

“There’s one more dance, but it’s too close and personal for the ball,” Douxie explains, stepping away as the final notes play. 

“Then what’s it for?” Zoe asks, tucking some stray hair back behind her ear. 

“Well, weddings, usually, or really formal ceremonies. I was taught it too. I think- I think you’d like it.” Douxie’s nervousness is showing again and Zoe reaches forward to wipe some stray jam from the corner of his mouth. He ducks away too late, rolling his eyes. 

“Then sure. Teach me.” Douxie breathes in deeply and settles his hands, one on her waist and the other clasping her hand and begins to guide her through the rather more complex steps. She notes that it requires both partners to be acutely aware of their closeness - and if anything, that makes Zoe like it more. They move awkwardly at first, choppy and sharp movements until Zoe realizes that the rhythm of this dance is more like a continuous flowing movement rather than a series of movements. It clicks, and soon they’re whirling about, Zoe’s dress flaring with their moments and Douxie’s longish hair bouncing around his face. 

Zoe looks up and meets his eyes smiling. He grins back, and that moment of eye contact is enough for them to break their focus. He steps on her toes as she wasn't fast enough in drawing back and brings them both down, toppled over each other. They roll apart laughing, looking up to the stars far above. They settle into the comfortable quiet, watching the sky. 

It doesn’t matter to either of them that the night didn’t go as planned, and it doesn’t matter that Merlin was disappointed, or that they’d missed the dance. They had each other in this quiet moment and to them, that’s all there needed to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ensuing events of the ball turn the night to something a little less classic but sure to leave it's imprint on future tales.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! It's really been forever, hasn't it lol. I got a little caught up in everything and just couldn't seem to figure out where to go with this, but hey! Here we are with a chapter two, even if it's not nearly so soon as I'd hoped it would be. But it's here and I really hope you enjoy. Apologies for errors, I've done three edit run-thrus and I'm sure there's still some but seems doable lol.

Eventually, the sounds of music begin to die out and Douxie knows it means they’ll need to be leaving soon. Once the dance is over, there is usually a speech by a couple of nobles before anyone could dismiss themselves, full of nonsense about allies and truces. It wasn’t the first time Douxie had been dragged along to one of these events. The other two times Merlin had practically attached him to a leash and never let the apprentice out of his sight. It wasn’t a humiliation he wanted to experience again. 

Still a bit giddy with the sugar and their little dance, the two mages slowly make their way through the halls again, finding it a little more difficult than expected to trace their steps through the maze of a castle. 

“I swear we’ve gone past this door twice,” Zoe says, pointing at a very tall, ornate metal door, unmistakably unique. Douxie sighs, unfortunately having to agree with her. 

“Well, let’s try this hall, then. Worst comes to worst, I use a little levitation spell to drop us down to the ground from a window.” They head down the hallway, finding a staircase finally and breathing a shared sigh of relief. “See? We’re fine.” 

Zoe takes his elbow and lifts the edge of her dress with a hand on reentering the grand hall, both moving quietly as possible. Douxie ducks away from Merlin’s gaze and turns them towards the table covered in food, passing behind it leisurely, keeping an eye on his master. 

“Zoe, if you’re going to do that, at least be sneaky,” Douxie says tugging her somewhat further from the table. She rolls her eyes at him and pockets another pastry. 

“Oh, shush,” she snaps back, but stops for now. While Douxie doesn’t mind her mannerisms, the others here certainly would. Like Douxie had said there would be, a man stands at the end of the ballroom and speaks about alliances and talks mostly nonsense, or what seems to be. He’s sure it’s nothing the two of them need to hear.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” comes Merlin’s voice from over their shoulders. Both of them freeze in their tracks, glancing at each other before turning and peering behind them with trepidation. 

“Uh, hello, Master,” Douxie says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re...headed home? Zo- Lady Raiden doesn’t feel so well…” 

“If you leave now, not only do you make yourself look bad, but myself and Arthur as well. Another hour. Your little hiding away wasn’t helpful, either. You have a lot to learn, boy,” the wizard grumbles, waving a hand to direct them to stay.

“Apologies, but Master—” 

“Ah! Don’t ‘but Master’ me, Hisirdoux.” Merlin sets his shoulders and faces the speaker, leaving Douxie and Zoe standing in awkward silence. 

“So we stay?” Zoe asks. Douxie nods, eyes flicking to the large stained glass windows. He regrets not expending the energy for that spell to drop them down to the ground level. That is, if he was actually capable of that caliber of spell. Merlin would probably tell the apprentice it was too much for him. 

“It’ll be fine, just an hour left or so.” 

“That’s fine by me,” Zoe says, producing yet another pastry. Douxie frowns, but says nothing, thinking to himself. 

_She’s even thinner than I was on the streets...She needs whatever she can get, and it can’t be so terrible for her to be enjoying things that she’d really never get otherwise. I know Isabel feeds her...right? But still._ He studies her tiny frame for a moment longer, noticing just how thin her waist is. Even that alone didn’t place her among the looks of the nobles. All the nobles had a noticeable amount of weight to them, a sign of their wealth and prosperity. Douxie is underweight as a side-effect of genetics and magic, and also a ridiculous metabolism, but he has enough muscle to get by. Zoe is on the verge of being sickly skinny. _I’ll bring her food from the kitchens, it’s the least I can do, and I know magic use is draining._

“Stop looking at me like that,” she hisses, rubbing the back of her hand across her mouth. _Charmingly unladylike._

“Sorry,” he mumbles and redirects his gaze to the floor, where she notices the peek of a golden shoe under the edge of her dress. It shimmers in the bright candlelight and he smiles lightly. _Wherever did she get those?_

But the sound of the nobles clapping breaks him from his thoughts and he joins in, not wanting to stick out any more than he is sure he already does. Zoe doesn’t join until she’s prompted by a friendly jab of his elbow and a jut of his chin towards the rest of the room. The talking and clapping and repeat continues for a nearly painful amount of time, his legs beginning to ache from standing so long on the stone floors and the clothing weighing heavily on his shoulders, a rather significant con of not having learned to just magic-up something nice instead. He makes a distinct mental note to pick up some tricks. 

“And to our allies, for keeping the kingdoms safe from bad magics and the troll menace! And to Arthur, though you may have lost a loved one, be she always in our hearts.” The baron— Douxie presumes, he wasn’t paying close enough attention earlier —raises a goblet into the air and the surrounding nobles and knights follow suit. Merlin produces a silver goblet, studded with emeralds in his hand and Douxie frowns. Merin had certainly not been holding it moments earlier. Douxie attempts to recall a transmutation spell? A summoning spell? But can’t think of any that would do the same. He’ll have to ask later. 

“Douxie,” Zoe hisses. He shakes his head, watching Merlin uneasily, well aware of his master’s displeasure. 

“Are you ignoring me?” she says, a little louder. Douxie lifts a finger to his lips, willing Zoe to follow his slightest gestures trying to communicate that Merlin would strangle his apprentice for this. He promises himself that he’ll apologize for this, it’s poor treatment Merlin or not. 

There is a flash of purplish light that illuminates the room and catches the confused attention of all the partygoers. Zoe tugs his sleeve, hard, and now he understands. 

Her dress is but her plain street dress now, distinctly not what a noble should be wearing to such an event. Or what a noble should be wearing ever. Zoe’s face is twisted in a cross between disappointment and concern. 

“Magic!” someone cries out, eliciting gasps from the crowd. Merlin wheels on them now, lip curling in anger and what’s surely a harsh remark yet to be said. 

“N- no!” Douxie starts, holding a hand out. “It’s not as it seems, it’s just—”

“The wizard’s apprentice!” comes another. “But I thought magic use was strictly forbidden at this ball. You know better, boy.” 

“Look!” Zoe says, raising her hands and letting the small lightning bolts dance across her skin. Douxie laughs nervously and frantically tries to shove her hands down, not sure how in the world he’s supposed to convey the danger she’s putting herself into. “It’s me, it’s not him, the spell was just for the dress—”

The baron chuckles darkly from his stand at the end of the ballroom. “So it’s trickery and deceit. Such is to be expected from dirty magic users like yourself. Arrest her, she must face her crimes. I’m disappointed, Arthur.”

The king’s brow sits low but he does nothing to stop the preceding events. Douxie feels the terror sinking into him now like a stone in a pond. 

Several knights move in without a moment to question it, swords drawing with the sound of metal on leather. Zoe’s hand tightens on his sleeve, her other reaching back and pulling the stick from her hair—now quite clearly her wand as she brings it around to brandish in front of her. _A brilliant idea, actually._ He throws up a shimmering shield and steps in front her, gulping and feeling far less confident than Zoe looks. The knights press on them faster than he can plan an escape. 

“Oh, fuzzbuckets…” Douxie whispers. He swings around but Merlin has disappeared in the mob. Or fled already. Either way, they’re on their own now. “Zoe, you need to run.” 

“I’m not leaving you to get hacked to bits by them,” she growls, eyes now sharp and her stare icy. He knows she won’t budge on his accord but it was worth the attempt. 

“Go—get Archie. I’ll hold them off, try to reason, something, until you have him.” He doesn’t wait for an answer, using a gentle shove of magic to push her to the doors. She’s sent stumbling across the floor, one of her pretty golden shoes falling away, but if she notices it’s not shown on her face. She pauses after catching her balance, clearly debating running back to him, but decides on a confused frown before dashing off. He bites his lip, relieved but worried. 

Douxie turns and faces the oncoming knights, lifting his hands into the air and bringing them down in an arc to spray a blue wave of magic at the floor. Blue flames lick at their feet and spreads like spilled potion often tends to in the workshop. It’s just enough of a distraction for him to dive for the grand stairs of the castle, abandoning the exit he’d sent Zoe through, now frustratingly blocked by more men. 

“Get him!” cries the baron, an awful, gleeful cackle accompanying it. Bile rises in Douxie’s throat and suddenly he’s back to the days of scampering away from guards in the street, the panic clogging up his throat, his breaths coming quicker and shallower and making the fire in his hands tremble in time with his arms. 

He just has to stay away long enough for Zoe and Archie to come back, if that’s even safe or possible now. He can do that. He can do it. 

The sound of a hunt echoes through the castle and it’s a hunt for _him._ He can get away. He’s done this before, it can’t be impossible now. He trusts Archie and Zoe. No Merlin, just like the old days. He can do this. 

Right? 

*****************

“Archie! Archie we have to go!” Zoe shouts, marching up to the line of hitching posts. She finds the black horse and stands beside him, clearing her throat. “Archie, we’re leaving!” 

The horse just flicks his ears, a nearly smug look on his face as he continues to chew. Course he pretends to be one of them now of all times. 

“You stupid beast, Douxie’s in danger.” 

“Well you could have just said it, the rude remarks were quite unnecessary,” says Archie, lifting his head and peering at her from further down the line of tethered animals. Zoe’s eyes flick between him and the horse she’d just been reaming out, incredulous. She huffs in annoyance and unties him, leading him for the carriage house. 

“We don’t have time for this,” she mutters, planning to have a bit of a talk with both him and the wizard once this all clears. 

“You would be correct,” Archie agrees, and jerks his head away. “Leave the carriage and I’ll carry you both.”

“Are you sure about this?” Zoe warns, hands still firmly around the leadline. Archie nods awkwardly, and with even less grace, bends his hind legs and seats himself in a strange half-up position, flicking his head to gesture for her to get on. 

“It’s a trick I saw some other horse do, come now, if this is so urgent,” he insists. Zoe doesn’t fight it, instead throwing herself onto his back and grabbing a couple fistfuls of mane as he hoists up again, breaking into an uncomfortable trot and then a somewhat smoother canter. The jostling is awkward but the sooner they get there the better. Zoe just thanks the part of herself that thought to make the non-magical dress with slits in it else this ride would’ve been multiple times more difficult. 

“Where will he be?” Archie asks between the rhythm of his hoofbeats. Zoe feels her jaw clench. 

“I don’t know. He was running from them, I guess we just…” 

“Keep an eye out,” Archie finishes for her with a snort. “Of course. Knowing him it’ll be a close call.” 

She doesn’t want to agree with that sentiment as much as she does. They’ve closed in on the castle in no time, but a sure symphony of clattering metal sounds from within the building, shouts and yells drowned out by the chase. 

“There!” She points to a flash of blue magic coming from the second story, a glowing figure dashing in the opposite direction of the raging mob on his tail. Archie presses forward, following Douxie’s path to a balcony much like the one they’d danced on not long before. “Douxie!” 

Her call is enough to get him to glance down to her, and for his attention to be pulled for just long enough that a knight’s gloved hand clamps over his bracer and yanks hard. Douxie yelps and struggles, but it’s becoming clear he won’t get out of this on his own. Time to take matters into her own hands, and literally, she decides.

Zoe may not have done magic like this recently but it’s so inherent she needn’t worry about being able to access it. The natural magics in the world around her are easy enough to capture and draw in with a moment of focus. She powers a bolt of blinding lightning to rocket against the sky, accompanied by a roll of thunder that is far louder than all the shouting and noise of the knights.

“Down here!” she shouts. The men stare over the rail and glance overhead. The magic was effective but she’s impressively drained already with the single intense spell, the magic humming in her palms as an aftereffect. There’s no way she’s got enough to do anything more and she just crosses her fingers that she won’t need a shield. 

Douxie smartly takes the diversion and wriggles from the knight’s grasp, throwing himself over the railing without a second thought and using a strange blue spell to slow his fall like a hanging bowl in the air. It helps if only a little as he falls hard on the grass, sending Archie dashing forward to his side as the men argue on how best to get to the ground in time. Archie bends again, letting Zoe slide off and Douxie take her place behind him, arms around his waist for safety. The horse whinnies loudly and takes off, quickly shifting into a gallop and making for the roads as the noise picks up again in angry jeers and curses. 

“I’m sorry Zoe! I’ll listen to you next time, promise!” Douxie shouts, leaning forward even further over Archie’s neck. She peeks over her shoulder, but it appears in their drunkenness the knights are in little state to secure their steeds, growing smaller and smaller behind them. 

“A little late now!” she retorts, but stays clinging to him, feeling the chill night air streaming across her face and appreciating his residual warmth. Slowly the din fades into nothing again, leaving the quiet night interspersed with Archie’s slowing hoofbeats. “Where are we going?” 

“I—” He pauses a moment. “Not the castle. Anywhere but there, Merlin will be looking for us and I don’t want you caught up in this mess, I’m sorry.” 

“What about Isabel? She’d let us stay,” Zoe offers. Merlin wouldn’t think to check there, seeing as he has no idea where she lives or with whom. And she wants the old hedgewitch to know that she’s safe; the woman is more than old enough to not need another worry in her life. 

“If you think that’s the best option, I don’t...there’s not a lot of places I know of.” He sounds a slight bit sad at this comment and she wonders briefly if it has to do with the fact that once, he knew every hidden corner of the kingdom, these years now behind and his knowledge of them now far lesser. 

“She’d be happy to have you, even,” Zoe assures him. He makes a slightly amused sound but says nothing more, focused on their path and guiding Archie with a set of glowing blue reins he’d conjured up to assist in the low visibility. 

She falls quiet for the rest of their journey, so many words on her tongue she knows she’s not going to voice just yet. Maybe they don’t really need to be said today, or for a while. It’s been far too eventful for one day as it is. They fly into Camelot’s streets and past the guard, only slowing as they near the section of town home to shops. Douxie slips from Archie’s back first and helps her down, a hand she takes this time. She gently presses the door open, breathing a small sigh of relief that Isabel must be upstairs and asleep. It’ll be easier to explain this all in the morning. 

Archie, since returned to the dragon form, starts a fire in the hearth for them and Douxie produces a blanket that shouldn’t have fit into a hidden pouch at his hip, draping it over their legs. It’s plenty warm enough here and she quickly relaxes in the newfound security, feeling the exhaustion setting in now that the adrenaline has had a chance to wear away. 

“I’m sorry about that mess tonight,” Douxie apologizes, one hand lifted to twirl through the air. Wisps of blue light trail where his hand was and lead to his fingertips, lingering for a moment before fading back in a mesmerizing fashion. “Didn’t really go as planned.” 

“It was nice,” she says, landing a soft punch on his shoulder. “Though I did lose one of those shoes. But. Most fun I’ve had in a long time. Thanks.” 

“The entire kingdom wants you thrown in a dungeon, Zoe,” he laughs softly, a small hint of worry hanging in his tone. 

She shrugs, chin falling to her chest, suddenly far more weary than she’d thought she was. “I thought it was good.” 

“Rest,” he insists, pulling the blanket up over her. She can’t protest as her eyelids droop every lower and the last thing she feels is the steady vibration of Archie’s purr as he curls into the small space between the two mages. 

************************

Douxie shakes his head, staring at the notice pinned to the interest board in the town common. It’s written in bold, heavily inked print with an angry tone about it that can’t be missed. It reads plainly:

_A search for the owner of one golden slipper, found abandoned by a magic user who attended the spring ball, wearing a magic dress and fleeing on a dark horse....if you recognize this shoe or description and it’s potential owner contact the guard immediately. Large reward._

His gaze travels past the sign, landing on the young woman who brandishes a broom at a mouse scurrying over steps to the apothecary shop, a couple less than kind words leaving her mouth. Merlin at the least had managed to get them out of the worst of the trouble but there had been talking to and a quite strict ban on Zoe anywhere near the castle’s grounds. Didn’t mean either of them would be following said ban if they decided against it for whatever reason. 

“Casperan! You going to stand there uselessly?” 

“Apologies, m’lady, I was clearly mistaken in thinking you had this handled,” he teases, joining her at the steps. Archie bounds off after the rodent as it scurries beneath the building, wings rustling and tail twitching. 

“I did have it completely under control. Bigger problem is inside. Let’s just say I won’t be experimenting with potions for another ten years,” she groans, lifting her dress as she walks. “Thank gods Isabel is out foraging.” 

“Is no worry, and you’re welcome,” he adds, shooting her a sly glance. She scoffs, brushing hair from her face. 

“You’ll get your thank you when this giant river-rat-thing is gone.” 

“Fair is fair,” he replies, ducking through the doorway, ready to face whatever today’s challenge is. “You know, with the whispers I hear round town they might be telling the story of your magic dress for years, maybe even longer. Not every day that happens in a room with bards in it.” 

“That’s enough with your nonsense,” she bites back, but a slight look of disguised satisfaction shows on her face. “Who’d ever tell my story, anyways?” 

Douxie only lets himself linger on that comment for a heartbeat, wondering briefly if that’s purely rhetorical, before a dark creature scampers over his feet tailed by Archie and a shared shriek sends them into a frenzied chase, knocking herbs and bundles from shelves and creating a scene looking like a small storm had blown through.

All stories come from somewhere, he muses, knowing just how that night in the ball will leave it’s impact, even if the story that is carried far into the future is perhaps one Zoe would be less interested in seeing passed around on tongues and in taverns and eventually, paper and film in an adaptation quite unlike the real events, though bits and pieces remained despite. 

A golden shoe became a glass slipper, a kind old hedgewitch with a special talent for lesser magics now a fairy godmother, a charming prince instead of a charismatic apprentice, knights chasing after and seeking the woman out of a prince’s love instead of arresting two young adults on account of magic use. Her horse was actually a mouse transformed for the night, changing with the flash of the dress reverting to its normal state, a carriage actually a garden pumpkin, and it was multiple beautiful nights at this grand castle not just one and the prince always sought her out to dance with in the middle of the ballroom and all knew of his fondness even if they themselves were not so keen on it’s direction, instead of a very quiet friendship shared it was love that knew no bounds. 

The story twisted and shifted and grew over the centuries, beautiful, funny, sad, a story left open to interpretation and understanding and development as print media slowly became more common and now it’s considered one of the more famous classic stories heard and seen on film by children worldwide, with little knowledge of what it was cobbled from so many centuries ago. Douxie almost has half a mind to tell the real story one day and see what comes of it. 

But some mysteries to the mortals are harmless secrets to keep, afterall. He doesn’t mind holding this one close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap, folks! Thanks for the patience and the love and comments on chapter one, I needed it so much to get through to where I am now, and you may notice my writing has changed a lot; I thank my steadfast readers for all the encouragement and kind words that have kept me writing, so much love to you all!!! <333
> 
> Zoe's dress now has an art that can be found [here!](https://unexpected-possibilities.tumblr.com/post/643606082891169792/if-you-were-ever-interested-i-did-up-zoes)


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